You Can't Win 'Em All
by KBear143
Summary: Lynn "Buck" Compton is handsome, charming, a star athlete, and a promising officer. He's never had a problem with the ladies... except for one. Still, though she's never left his mind, he never expected to see her in a muddy paratroop encampment, waiting to jump into the war. **A special request story for TheDarkRose22** Rated mature. ALL OBVIOUS DISCLAIMERS
1. Chapter 1

**** ROXANNA POV ****

"Hey Roxie, have you met the new lieutenant?" Don Malarkey called from the tent where a group of Easy boys were gathered. "Come over here! We're shooting craps!"

"I'm not loaning you any more money, Malarkey," I retorted, sauntering over to where he stood. "You still owe me from last time. My luck, your chute won't open on the jump and I'll never see it! Besides, you know I don't really gamble."

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed, hugging me good-naturedly and gesturing to someone at the other end of the table. "You'll jump out of a damned airplane, but you won't throw down a couple of dollars on a roll of the dice. But you should come over here and meet him anyway. We've been telling him about you. He went to UCLA too."

"Don't interrupt the man, Malarkey!" Bill chided. "He's on fire right now, and he's winning me money!"

I couldn't see him yet, but there were enough tattered bills stacked in front of him that Bill's statement seemed to hold true. He stood to throw the dice again, so the crowd of men gathered around him backed away, and we locked eyes just as he put the dice to his lips to blow on them. I barely registered Don's voice beside me.

"Lieutenant Buck Compton, meet one of our medics and resident warrior princess, Roxanna Sharp."

I blinked in disbelief. Of all the companies in the entire United States military, he had to be assigned to mine? No! I was here first! I'd fought hard to get here! I'd been through Toccoa and Sobel! I'd been here for two years! Why did he have to come to my company? My brain was screaming, but my mouth didn't move. It felt like hours, but it was only seconds. At first, he looked as shocked to see me as I was to see him. Then, that slow, familiar, cocksure smile spread across his face.

"How about it, Roxie? You wanna blow on 'em for me? You always did bring me good luck."

The men around us looked on in surprised confusion, swiveling their heads between us like they were watching a tennis match. When Buck winked at me, I thought Bill was going to choke after he coughed to cover a laugh. The Roxanna Sharp that these boys knew wasn't one to let such a brash display pass without comment, even from a lieutenant. They waited with bated breath for my reaction without fully understanding the exchange that was taking place.

Buck was waiting for a reaction too, his ice-blue eyes glinting as he anticipated my melting under the weight of his brilliant smile. Instead, I pulled out all the money I had in my pocket and, without counting it or breaking our stare, threw the whole wad down on the table in front of George Luz, the Easy Company bookie.

"Damn, Rox! Do you even know how to play craps? That's at least a month's worth of…" Luz began.

"I know what it is, George. My money says he craps out on this roll."

Buck looked amused.

"Roxie, have you ever seen me crap out? Pick up your money. Seriously."

"Just roll your seven, Buck, so I can get back to my life."

The smile faded and he shrugged, "Suit yourself. Still stubborn as hell, I see. Never could get you to believe that I never lose."

The dice clattered to the end of the table and off of the board that had been set up. Everyone in the group looked to George, waiting on him to announce the result of the roll, except for Buck and me. I held his gaze with a hard stare of my own as George spoke.

"Seven," he said, clearly in disbelief. "Buck craps out."

There was laughter, hooting, and hollering as Buck's eyes snapped down to the dice. Seven crude white dots stared back up at him, grouped in four and three. Then he looked back up at me, his mouth agape but silent. I finally broke into a smirk and shrugged, sending him a wink of my own as George handed me my money.

"Well, you know what they say, lieutenant. You can't win 'em all."

The familiarity of the phrase hit him and his broad shoulders sank as I turned to walk away. I could hear his boots behind me, but I kept walking.

"Roxie, wait, please. Roxanna!"

* * *

 **** MALARKEY POV ****

"So," I nudged as our newest lieutenant stared ardently after the retreating medic. "I take it that you two have met before?"

He sighed and turned back toward me, kicking at a rock with the toe of his boot and looking a bit like an ashamed little boy as he mumbled, "Yeah, we, uh, sort of have a history."

"A history?"

"Yeah. We were friends at UCLA. Best friends."

"And? What happened?"

"Long story."

Before I could press him further, Winters appeared beside us in a jeep and ordered Buck to get in. Winters wasn't really a fan of Buck's overfamiliarity with the enlisted men, feeling that it could pose a danger to his role as a leader, and he really, really didn't like Buck gambling with us. My guess was that he was probably about to get an earful on top of everything else. Still, I wanted an explanation for what had just happened. I went jogging after Roxanna.

She must have heard my boots approaching from behind because she stopped abruptly and said, "I swear to God, Buck, if you don't leave me…"

"Roxie, it's just me."

Her defensive posture immediately softened as I pulled her into another hug and then walked her toward the tent where we'd been sleeping. It was deserted at the moment, so it provided a refuge where we could talk. We'd become good friends over the last two years, and I often sought advice from her about my Marie. She'd told me once, when I'd asked her why she was still single, that she'd had her heart broken in college and hadn't really gotten it out of her system before she joined the Airborne. She'd left the story intentionally vague, but the pieces were beginning to fall into place now.

"Go ahead and ask, Don. You already know the answer."

"Yeah, I figured. So are you finally going to tell me what happened? He seems like a nice enough guy, even for a football star. Don't tell me I already have to hate him."

That garnered a laugh, and she sighed before launching into her explanation.

"He is a nice guy, Don. Actually, he's a pretty great guy. We were best friends once."

"Yeah, he mentioned that."

"He did?" She asked, seeming surprised at his acknowledgement of their history. "Well, anyway…"

* * *

 **** ROXANNA POV ****

 _It was freshman year at UCLA. I was nervous as hell. A small-town bookworm on a big campus. Introverted. Completely focused and clutching my books so hard that my knuckles were white. I made it to my first class, and found an available seat next to a group of rowdy athletes, which was, of course, my worst nightmare. Shy bookworms do not often handle themselves well around popular, handsome, outgoing football players. It was probably two or three weeks before I even looked up at any of them, although you know me. I followed the football games, so I knew who they all were._

 _It was a Monday, after a particularly impressive win, when he spoke to me for the first time. They'd obviously spent the weekend partying it up, and he was wholly unprepared for a surprise test. Luckily, our professor was a big fan, so as we gathered up our materials after class, I saw him called to the front. Then I heard my name._

 _"Roxanna, would you come up here a moment. Roxanna, this is Lynn Compton. He plays baseball and football for us here, and he could use some tutoring to make sure he stays on track. You are among my most promising students this term. I thought perhaps you might be able to tutor him and help him with his study habits."_

 _I wasn't particularly happy about the idea, but then I looked up at him. When he flashed me that smile, I'd probably have agreed to just about anything. As it turns out, Buck was pretty much the opposite of most of the football players that I'd ever come into contact with, at least as far as personality goes. He was good-looking and sure of himself, of course. He was also intelligent, charming, and kind-hearted… and surprisingly easy to talk to, once he got me out of my shell. I was impressed with how smart he was, and he was impressed to find out that I knew about sports. We made each other laugh. He actually cared a lot about his grades, and we had some of the same classes, so we started studying together more. Maybe it was because we could talk and I didn't fawn all over him. I called him out on his ego and he challenged me on my meekness. I don't know how to explain it. We just fit._

 _Four years. Four years, and we were the best of friends. He dated. Usually the pretty, popular types. I even dated some. Usually guys that Buck set me up with. Never anything serious for either of us. I'm sure that you can guess that I had completely gone head over heels for him by then, and was totally convinced that he couldn't possibly ever think of me that way. I wasn't his type. I was the friend. He dated pretty cheerleaders._

 _During his senior season, he started dating the captain of the cheerleading squad. She was beautiful and just his type, and she looked at me like I was some kind of bug. Our friendship drove her right up the wall. Back-handed comments. Being sickeningly sweet to me in front of him, and then totally different behind his back. Whining and begging him to spend more time with her to keep him away from me. You know how it goes. Buck finally caught her at a party one night, just after a huge win, when she was ridiculing me for showing up where I wasn't wanted. They had a huge fight, and she demanded that he choose between us. That was the beginning of the end._

"So that's what happened?" Don interrupted, speculating, "He chose her and you got your heart broken."

I smiled and shook my head.

"No. Actually, he told her that if she were to make him choose between us, that she wouldn't like the outcome. Then we left and walked back to my apartment. The rest of that night was great."

"Oh." I could tell he was perplexed, and finally he asked, "So what did happen?"

When the story was finished, Don said nothing. He put a sympathetic arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. The familiarity of the reassuring gesture in relation to the story I'd just shared finally brought out the tears I'd been struggling to hold back since I'd first seen Buck's face looking back at me in that tent.

* * *

 **** BILL POV ****

"So, uh, what was that all about earlier?"

I ran into Buck again after his lecture from Winters, and immediately asked him the question that had been burning in all of our minds since that unusual exchange at the craps table. He tried to play dumb at first, but I gave him a look that said I wasn't having it. Roxanna Sharp didn't take any shit from anyone, sure, but she also was not one to hold a grudge. Respected and well-liked, she generally got along with everyone. Even Roy Cobb, who had been among the most skeptical when she showed up at Toccoa, considered her a friend. She wouldn't have seen Buck Compton for at least two years, as she'd obviously been in training with us, so it concerned us that she'd been nursing such out-of-character hard feelings against him for that long. We all liked the new lieutenant instantly, but we were fiercely protective of Roxie. If he'd done something bad enough to make her dislike him, we wanted to know what it was.

"We just… have a history, Bill."

"Yeah, no shit. What kind of history?" He was clearly uncomfortable with the question, so I pressed. "Look, you seem like a good guy, but that little princess is our pride and joy. There isn't a man in this company who wouldn't take a bullet for her. She doesn't dislike anybody, even Cobb. But she definitely has been harboring something against you. So before we all go into battle together, we need to know what you did to hurt our girl."

He sighed, his response barely audible.

"I kissed her."

My Italian blood was flash-boiled.

"You what? Like, you kissed her and she didn't want you to? You son of a…"

"No! No! Not like that! We were best friends, and I kissed her."

Now I was just confused, and I pressed him to explain. He motioned me to sit down on some nearby crates and began to relate the story of their four year friendship, and how it had all come crashing down.

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

 _After the argument, we left the party and walked back to her apartment, which was right down the street. I started to apologize for not realizing how badly she was being treated by my girlfriend, but she waved me off and told me not to worry about it. The point, to her, was that when I had found out, I'd stood up for her. That's just the type of person she was, to reassure me when I was feeling guilty about something. Four years. All through college. She was my study partner, my best friend, and my closest confidante. By the time we reached her room that night, we were laughing and talking about other things. It was typical of us. We just truly appreciated each other's company._

 _We spent the rest of the night eating junk food, listening to music, and talking. It got late. We had been stretched out across her bed, laughing about God knows what, and I said that I needed to head back to my own apartment which, incidentally, was just a few floors away. I think I had an early practice or something, and she was going to be busy the next day with a project. Anyway, I said that I should probably get going._

 _She turned her face up toward mine, and I have no idea why, but my whole world shifted. It was like our whole friendship flashed through my mind, and some little part of my brain was just screaming at me that I'd been staring the perfect girl in the face for the last four years, and I'd never even given it a second thought. In that moment, all I wanted was to know whether there was something between us beyond friendship. A spark. I loved her dearly, but was I in love with her? So I kissed her. I kissed her, and I remember every second of it like it just happened._

 _I could tell that she was watching my eyes, which were on her bottom lip. She had it pulled between her teeth, as though she could tell that the atmosphere in the room had shifted. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and her eyes fluttered closed as I ran my fingers down her jaw and neck. My thumb ran across her mouth, and her lips parted in a sigh. God, she was beautiful. I leaned in and brushed my mouth against hers, and it felt like an electrical surge. I can still feel her slipping her fingers through the hair at the base of my neck, pulling me back in. Kissing Roxie for the first time… I mean, really kissing her… was like having my blood lit on fire. It was better than any touchdown. Any homerun or runner I threw out. Thinking about it now? It was better than the Rose Bowl. And it felt like the most natural thing in the world. When we finally pulled away, we just smiled at each other because we knew that everything had just changed forever. I told her that it was something I probably should have done a long time ago, and that she'd never have to worry about being mistreated by another girl that I was dating. In that moment, I meant it with all my heart. I kissed her again at the door, and we exchanged our first "I love you." I walked back to my apartment on top of the world._

"So, what the hell happened then?" Bill pressed, insistent on learning what I had done to wrong this girl they all clearly cared deeply about.

I was understandably hesitant to finish the story, not only because I knew how I would sound, but because it was the one thing in my life that I truly regretted. I still struggled with it, and now that I knew she was here… Now that I'd seen her again… it was like a fresh wound. I finally formulated an answer.

"I woke up and went to practice the next day, and started listening to my buddies talking about how I was single again, and how much fun we all had. I convinced myself that I wasn't ready for any kind of serious relationship, but I knew that there was no way that I could treat Roxie as casually as I did the other girls I'd dated. If I started dating Roxie, that'd be it. She was the one. I was certain of that. I just wasn't certain I was ready to be with the one. So I decided that I should have fun a little longer. Roxie and I would stay friends, and then, when I was ready to settle down, I would sweep her off of her feet and marry her."

"And did you let her in on any of this?"

"Not exactly. She worked on her project until late, so I didn't see her. I'm not sure what I would have said if I had, honestly. But the next morning, she knocked on my apartment door with coffee and pastry from our favorite bakery. I opened it just in time for her to see the cheerleader walking out of my bathroom. When she saw Roxie's face, she just kinda laughed and said 'You can't win 'em all.' Roxie handed me the breakfast she'd brought and walked away. Then, she avoided me as much as possible until graduation. I wouldn't have known how to explain myself anyway. I could barely look at her. At graduation, she handed me a card. She was planning on nursing at one of the military hospitals, and she knew I was headed to training, so she said that she hoped she'd never have to treat me because it would kill her if something happened to me. Despite it all, she said she'd always love me and told me to be careful over here. That was the last time I saw or heard from her… until today."

Bill stared at me in disbelief for a moment before finally shaking his head, "Damn, Buck."

That pretty much said it all.

"I know. Believe me. I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**NORMANDY – JUNE 6, 1944 (D-DAY)**

 **** ROXANNA POV ****

"What do you know about cooking? You're Irish," Buck questioned, staring down into the ammunition box where Donald Malarkey was attempting to create something edible enough to fill our long-empty stomachs.

A group of us sat in the back of a canvas-covered truck, which was the only suitable place to have a fire when we were under strict light discipline. It was cramped and warm, and between Don's cooking and the sweaty, unwashed bodies, it didn't smell all that great, but we had all survived our first jump and lived through D-Day. We were in pretty high spirits as we ate, laughing and joking and passing a bottle of some unidentified alcohol around the circle as the guys filled me in on Brecourt.

"Yeah, you shoulda seen the lieutenant here, throwing grenades like a champ!" Bill announced, elbowing me in the side.

I glanced up and saw Buck's eyes flickering at me over the fire, waiting to see how I'd react to the compliment. The look was nervous, but I could see a tinge of hope around the edges. I held his eyes as I responded.

"Well, Bill, what would you expect? The man is an All-American catcher after all. Threw out baserunners like it was second nature."

Buck looked relieved until Toye spoke up.

"Yeah, until he drops a grenade in your lap! Tried to kill me!"

"I got run into as I went to throw! Come on!"

Toye laughed and patted him on the shoulder to show he'd been kidding.

"Yeah, I know. But can ya blame me for being a little rattled? Two grenades within a few minutes?" My mouth dropped, but before I could demand further explanation, he added, "Princess, I'm fine. I swear. Obviously I'm invincible."

"Don't say that! Joe Toye, I swear! Let me see you! You're not cut up or anything? I don't want you to get an infection or have something important fall off."

"I'm okay. I promise. Don't be mad at me! If you're gonna be pissed at someone, be pissed at Malarkey!"

The guys who had been at Brecourt took great pleasure in telling me about Malarkey's quest for a Luger the second they returned. I'd already given him a long earful, and as the subject was raised again I sent another glare in his direction. He dropped his eyes and shook his head.

"Thanks for that, Joe."

The mood lightened again when Lieutenant Winters poked his head into the truck, punctuating his brief visit by informing Bill that he was not, in fact, a Quaker, as the strong-willed Philly paratrooper had been grumbling since we landed. It was a relief to see the two make peace. Bill had been through an emotional rollercoaster the last couple of days, between the jump and learning of his brother's death, and with Meehan still missing; Winters had assumed command of Easy. They were both too good to hold a grudge for long.

Laughter broke out again as the new CO allowed the flap to close behind him and, for the briefest of moments; I was caught up in Buck's smile. As if he could sense it, he caught my eyes and shot me a discreet wink. I looked away quickly, trying to pretend that it was the warmth from the fire making my face so hot.

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

My eyes automatically began to scan faces when I reached the assembly area. We were still missing a lot of men, but I was only looking for her. Finally, Dick came up the road, leading a sizeable group. She and Malarkey were at the rear of the pack, and I had to resist the urge to run up and hug her. She mingled with the growing group of Easy members, oblivious to my relief. Dick finally interrupted me, shaking my hand as we began discussing the present situation. I didn't see her again until he was called to meet with Major Strayer, the unknown status of Lieutenant Meehan leaving him as the commanding officer of Easy Company.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered, glancing back over the muddy berm as the sound of heavy artillery boomed around me.

"Not exactly dancing music, is it?"

The voice startled me and I turned, surprised to see her sitting down next to me.

"Oh, I don't know. There's a beat there if you listen for it."

We'd reached a certain level of peace and mutual respect in the short time between the craps game and the jump. Part of it was probably that we both knew that we had bigger things to be concerned about. The rest, at least as far as I could tell, was that those old feelings had not just died away with the anger over what had happened. There was still something between us. I could feel the buzz even now, sitting in the mud in the middle of Normandy. My comment made her laugh, and seeing her smile almost made me forget where I was. She glanced over and elbowed me playfully.

"Always a wiseass." I grinned and shrugged. Her face grew a bit more serious as she held my eyes. "I was happy to see you safe when we got here."

"Yeah," I replied softly, reaching up to brush a smear of mud from her cheek with my thumb. "I was happy to see you too. Scared me when I first got here and you weren't here yet."

Our brief reunion was interrupted when Dick called me and some of the other men into a briefing. It seemed that some twelve of us were headed to take out a battery of heavy artillery, manned by an unknown number of German soldiers. As we armed ourselves with whatever was available, the men lined up to kiss her cheek or forehead for luck on the way out. I'd seen the same ritual carried out before we boarded our planes, but I hadn't dared take part then. Now, I was swept along in the line until I was once again face to face with her. Without a second thought, I slung my rifle over my shoulder and slipped my free arm around her waist, pulling her in so that I could press a kiss into her hair. Her hand gripped my bicep as I released my hold and she met my eyes again.

"Buck, please be careful."

Her genuine concern raised a lump in my throat and I could only nod before we headed out to take on the German battery. For that brief moment, I was almost thankful for Adolf Hitler and the war that had given me the opportunity to repair the damage I had done to my relationship with this incredible woman. I did feel a little bad though when I returned to see her treating the wounded, and certainly embarrassed, Popeye Wynn.

"Come on, Roxie! Can't Roe take care of me?" he was whining, and I couldn't help but laugh. "It's bad enough getting shot in the ass without you being the one to… owww!"

"Stop complaining, Pop! A wound is a wound. Although you could do with a tan back here."

I had to feel bad for the guy. Her joking mood lasted until someone mentioned Don Malarkey's jaunt into the field in search of a Luger. By the time she had finished her rant, I was pretty sure he was longing for the relative safety of Brecourt and the Germans. Satisfied that he had been sufficiently chastened, she relaxed a bit as night fell and we gathered in the back of the truck and the conversation drifted from topic to topic. She even pointed out my All-American status when my grenade-throwing capabilities were brought up, and after Dick made us all laugh by calling out Bill on his Quaker comments, I could feel her eyes on me. She'd always told me that she loved my smile, and in the orange glow of the fire, I caught her familiar gaze and winked at her. The flames couldn't disguise the blush that I knew was there, and I found myself relieved to know that I could still affect her in that way. Maybe I hadn't completely ruined everything, not that we were really in any position for me to capitalize on this revelation right now.

The Normandy campaign seemed to drag on and on, and Easy Company was called upon to clear pathways for the Allies to continue their march forward. I had thought that having her angry with me was hard, but watching her rush into the line of fire every day nearly killed me. It also reminded me how amazing she was. She never batted an eye as she raced through the streets of Carentan, treating men who were bleeding and dying. It didn't rattle her when she came across Tipper, whose face was a gory mess after a shell explosion, or when Bull Randleman brought her a man whose leg had been blown off at the knee. Her poise was impressive, and I found myself enthralled by her steady hand and calm demeanor as she fished a bit of ricocheted bullet out of Dick Winters' leg.

When she'd finished bandaging him up, she walked outside and around the corner of the building. Concerned, I discreetly followed and saw that she had sought refuge in a place that was not teeming with dirty paratroopers to get the briefest moment of peace. She leaned back against the wall; eyes closed, and drew a deep breath. She was streaked with sweat, dust, and blood, and the pure exhaustion was apparent around her eyes. To me, she had never looked more beautiful.

"Can I help you, Buck?" she asked, sensing my presence without ever opening her eyes.

"Just checking to make sure you're okay. Here. You should drink some water. You've been going nonstop all day."

She cracked an eye and gave me a sideways glance, at last accepting the canteen I offered and taking a long swig as I leaned against the wall next to her.

"Thank you, and yeah, I'm fine. Just tired like everyone else. How are you?"

"Well, I'd be better if I weren't watching you run yourself ragged while the Germans were shooting all around you."

"Hmm, sorry. War is hell," was her dry reply, and I laughed at the familiar tone.

"Just promise me that you will take care of yourself. Please?" I pleaded, and she offered a brief nod. "Listen, Roxanna, I need to…"

"Roxanna! Hey, Roxie, can you come back in? We need you," came Spina's voice from around the corner, interrupting my attempt at an apology.

She gave me a knowing look and patted my shoulder before walking back toward the aid station.

"I'm sure they are preparing to move out. I'll see you later, Buck."

Later, as it turned out, was when we were dug into foxholes along a line of hedgerows where we had come into somewhat unexpected contact with the Krauts who were looking to take back Carentan. German songs were drifting through the night air, boring into our ears and leaving many of us grumbling, and I had just started to drift to sleep when I heard a familiar voice passing by.

"Damned jumpy, nervous privates! And what the hell was Tab thinking, sneaking up on him in the dark and wearing a Kraut poncho?"

The soft Cajun lilt of Eugene Roe chuckled and said something in agreement. As they passed my foxhole, I could see them laughing and playfully elbowing each other. With the moonlight shining down on her, the familiarity of the scene was not lost on me. I could feel the jealousy rising in my chest as she looped her arm through his. They looked so comfortable together that my mind began to race with possibilities. They were both medics, so they clearly had spent a great deal of time together. They shared that bond. They seemed very close. In fact, I was looking at an almost completely different Doc Roe than the one I was accustomed to seeing. He seemed more relaxed with her, and certainly more talkative. Almost flirtatious, in fact. The idea crawled all over me, not only because I was remembering the days when I had walked in his place or because I was jealous, but because, deep down, I knew that I had no right to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**MALARKEY POV**

It didn't take much to see that Buck Compton was not a man who was familiar with jealousy. The star athlete with movie star looks was quite used to getting any woman that he set his sights on, or at least eliciting a giggle with his brilliant smile and a wink. The Roxanna that he had left behind at UCLA was a shy, soft-spoken bookworm who, unless she was with him, spent the majority of her time in class, at the library, or studying in her apartment. The Roxanna he'd found in Aldbourne was stronger, more confident, and the darling of an entire company of paratroopers. Furthermore, she had seemed to steel herself against his charm.

I could see him cautiously searching for a chink in her armor at every available opportunity, looking for a way back in. I could tell that it bothered him to see her so comfortable with the rest of us when there still seemed to be such a gulf between the two of them, but I resisted the urge to get involved until the day of the hedgerow battles.

After a night spent in foxholes, we managed to hold off the Krauts long enough for our own Shermans to show up. Once the roaring firefight came to a close, she was up and at work, moving down the line to treat the wounded and check on everyone. She had just reached me when I noticed Buck watching her as she looked me over.

"You know the he's dying to talk to you, don't you? It kills him to watch you with all of us when he knows that used to be the two of you."

"If he wants to talk to me, he needs to do it. What's stopping him?"

I tilted my head and looked at her pointedly as she cleaned a small cut on my hand. She knew exactly what was stopping him from carrying on anything more than a superficial conversation with her.

"Just tell him you don't hate him, okay? Trust me when I tell you that it is driving him crazy to think that he won't ever be able to fix things between you, especially when he has to see you every day. I know that it would drive me nuts if I were him."

She sighed her concession, even as she rolled her eyes and smiled at me.

"Fine, I'll talk to him. You think you're so smart, don't you? He probably paid you for that little speech."

I put my hand to my heart and dropped my mouth in mock protest.

"Well, I never!"

She giggled and threw her arms around my neck in a hug. I returned it, as always, but over her shoulder I could see Buck turn away from the affectionate scene. I felt a little bad, but I knew that I'd done as much as I could to help at this point. I could only hope that Buck would seize the opportunity when it presented itself.

* * *

 **ROXANNA POV**

Buck and I had danced around some conversation in the days after the jump. I knew Don was right. I could sense Buck's fear that I wouldn't forgive him almost as much as I could sense his desire to apologize. I worked my way down the line toward him, until I was finally looking up into his piercing blue eyes.

"You're a mess, Lieutenant Compton," I commented, noting his mud-flecked face and dirty uniform. He cracked a smile and I returned it, gesturing for his hands so that I could inspect them for any cuts that needed cleaning. "Nothing too bad. Just a few scrapes. I'll clean them so they don't get infected though. Can't shoot Germans if your fingers fall off."

I could feel his eyes boring into my face as I worked. Several times his mouth moved as though he wanted to speak, but he always stopped short. I made quick work of his small injuries and met his eyes again.

"Thanks, Rox."

"Of course. You know we always take care of each other."

He looked down at his boots, kicking at the ground before replying, "Not always."

"Buck," I said quietly, and he looked up at me with a pained expression. I could feel the guilt and shame rolling off of him in waves. I touched his cheek, scruffy from days without a shave, and he leaned into my touch. "Don't keep beating yourself up over what happened, okay? I know you're sorry. I don't hate you. It might just take us some time to get back to where we used to be."

"Roxie, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I was scared and stupid and…"

"Hey, relax, okay? We've got plenty of time to talk about it. I'm going to make sure everyone has been taken care of, and I'll see you later."

He nodded, giving me a brief hug before releasing me back to my duties. I could see Don's smile as I continued down the line, which only widened when I stuck my tongue out at him. As our Normandy adventures continued, the release of tension between Buck and I was apparent to everyone and, although things weren't exactly back to normal, it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. By the time we were pulled from the line and sent back to England, we had mended our friendship enough that we were at least comfortable being in each other's company. As the summer wore on, casual conversation became comfortable again, and I would sometimes forget that we had ever spent any time apart at all.

* * *

 **BUCK POV**

"I don't hate you."

Those four words gave me the sense of release that I'd been craving since she'd walked out of my life. Hope welled up inside me again, reminding me that I had once been certain that this was the woman I had wanted to spend my life with. The moment the thought flashed in my head, I knew that my feelings had not changed. Roxanna was my match. The other side of my coin. The one that I wanted to wake up to.

There was, of course, no way that I could spring that revelation on her now, given our situation. Still, it was in that moment, with her hand resting against my cheek, that I made up my mind to win her back, come hell or high water. I would just have to be patient, though patience was not one of my virtues. I needed to rebuild our friendship before I could ask for forever.

I started by just trying to make sure that she was doing alright, checking on her whenever I had the opportunity. Dark bags beneath her eyes told the story of sleepless hours spent caring for wounded men, and the pain that shone through was a testament to the things that none of us would ever be able to un-see. We'd been promised relief after three or four days, but it had been weeks and still we were pushing on. When we were finally pulled from the line en-route back to England, our first stop was a field camp north of Utah Beach. Once we were settled, I noticed that she was nowhere to be found in the long line of paratroopers waiting for a much-needed hot meal. Concerned that she was forgoing food in favor of taking care of someone, I filled my plate with an extra portion and went looking for her.

I found her in a small medical tent that had been set up next to the officers', eyes closed and propped somewhat uncomfortably against a cot that contained one of her sleeping patients. Eugene Roe stood nearby, assisting another patient with his own food as I stepped through the flap. Before I could ask if she was awake, she cracked an eye and looked up at me.

"I swear to God, Compton, if you are coming in here because you're hurt…"

"Food. I brought food. I didn't see you out there, and you need to eat."

"Oh. Thanks. Well," she answered, gesturing to an open spot beside her on the ground. "Pull up a chair. Not the best table in the house, but it'll have to do."

I chuckled, relieved to see her mood elevated by the move off of the line, and sat down next to her, our legs touching so that I could rest the plate of food there. The current buzzing between us felt good, but I tried not to let it show too much. After a few minutes, Doc excused himself to have a meal of his own and a shower. With the two patients sleeping under the weight of their morphine, Roxie and I had been left virtually alone. I saw a small window of opportunity.

"Hey, Rox, there's something I've been needing to say for a while now and we haven't exactly been in a position for me to say it. I really want to tell you that I'm sorry for hurting you. It honestly had absolutely nothing to do with you. It was my own immaturity that got in the way, and I have regretted it every second of every day since."

She let out a slow breath and looked up at me, finally replying softly, "I hope you can understand that it might take a little while for you to break past the wall I put up after everything that happened, but I'm willing to rekindle our friendship if you've got the patience."

My relieved smile was met with her own when I answered, "I've got all the time in the world."

Leaning into my shoulder, she whispered, "I've really missed you, Buck."

It was something about the combination of that whispered admission and the sparkle behind her eyes that captured me. I could neither answer nor look away. My hand found its way to her face, running the back of my fingers across her cheek and down her jawline. I tilted her chin up slightly, and she looked at me expectantly as my thumb ran across her bottom lip. My heart pounded in my ears. I could feel myself leaning forward. I could see her mouth, already so familiar, moving closer to mine. Part of my brain was screaming that I needed to slow down, to be patient like she had asked, because I didn't want to scare her away. I just could not seem to arrest my movements or suppress my overwhelming desire to kiss her again. Her lips were so close that I could feel the warmth of them on mine.

"Roxie! Hey, Roxie!" came a familiar voice from outside the tent, and we jerked quickly away and went back to eating just as Frank Perconte came through the flap. "Hey, I've got a splinter or something in the back of my leg and it is killing me. Can you help me out?"

She glanced back up at me, her cheeks still tinged with pink from the heated moment and our near discovery, and we shared a quiet, nervous laugh at our private joke before she motioned Frank over and told him to sit down.


	4. Chapter 4

**ROXANNA POV**

"I'm warning you, Joe. Do not get involved in this," I whispered. "Buck's just reeling in the new kid. I know him. He'd never smile like that when he was losing. He is up to something."

Joe Toye had been carefully watching a dart game in which Buck and Luz were teamed up against Bull and one of our new replacements, a red-headed Philly native named Babe Heffron. Buck, a star football player and All-American catcher, seemed to be struggling. I hadn't really paid much attention to the game, and I couldn't see Buck from where I was standing, but I noticed that Joe was practically salivating over the idea of drawing Buck and George into a wager on the next game. I knew it would be a mistake. Buck didn't gamble unless he was sure he would win.

"Come on, Rox. You saw him throw!" he argued, and then turned back to the group and promptly entered into a bet for two packs of smokes per man on the first one to hit the bullseye. I stepped up beside Joe for a better view of the action, and immediately noticed how Buck had managed his hustle so convincingly. No wonder he was smiling. I let out a laugh of my own and cleared my throat as he appeared to carefully size up the dart board.

"Um, Buck?"

He glanced over with a playful glint in his eye, realizing that I'd figured him out, and answered me with a sugary-sweet, "Why, yes, Roxanna?"

"I was just wondering when you were planning on telling them that you're actually right-handed."

He broke into a wide smile and switched hands as the two swindled men looked between us in disbelief.

"Roxie baby, what would I do without you?" he asked, punctuated by the stick of his dart in the center of the bullseye.

As George collected the winnings, Joe shot me a dirty look.

"I thought you loved me, Rox."

"I do love you! I didn't see what he was up to until after you'd already made the bet. Besides, I warned you to stay out of it."

"Yeah well, that was all of my cigarettes until rations come in."

"Oh Lord, George, Joe isn't going to have any cigarettes and I'm not dealing with all that! Give the man his smokes back!"

"What are you willing to trade?" Buck answered for him, holding the packs toward me and winking suggestively. "What are these worth to you? Been a while since I had a good foot massage. How 'bout you, George?"

I glared at him. There was no way I was going to deal with a smokeless Joe Toye, bet or no bet. He would be intolerable. More intolerable than Buck was being right now. I spoke before I had a chance to think it through.

"How about double or nothing?"

"What?" Joe and George asked in unison.

I raced on now, unable to retract my thought.

"Double or nothing. One dart. One bullseye. If I win, they get their smokes back. If not, you get two more packs a piece when rations come in."

Buck stepped close to me, nearly touching, and looked down into my eyes. I tried not to react, but swallowed hard as I willed myself to hold his gaze. He caught the slip in my composure and smiled, not taking his eyes from mine as he took my hand and placed a dart in it. Beside me, I could hear Joe protesting the wager and questioning my skills as I turned away from Buck and took aim at the board.

"Shut up, Joe."

Behind me, Buck leaned close again.

"Don't miss, Roxie," he purred against the shell of my ear, and the sound travelled all the way down my spine in an involuntary shiver.

For a moment, the dart board grew fuzzy in front of me as that familiar heat pooled in my stomach. It was his knowing chuckle that brought me back to myself, even as his hand slipped discreetly to my hip as he stood behind me in the crowded room. I squared my shoulders and took aim, punctuating my irritation at him with a dart in the center of the bullseye.

"That a girl, Roxie!" Joe cheered, holding out a hand toward Luz. "Now, gimme back my smokes."

I turned to look up at Buck again, and the hand that had been resting on my hip now slipped seamlessly and shamelessly to my rear, pulling me almost imperceptibly toward him. He was biting back a small smile, and his eyes held something that I couldn't quite read… something between admiration and desire.

"God, you're still beautiful."

I didn't get a chance to respond before George, begrudgingly handing over his cigarettes, muttered, "I shoulda known that you learned from him. Damn, Buck, I could've used those extra smokes too. Why'd you agree if you knew that she could shoot like that?"

Buck didn't take his eyes from mine, instead winking and answering only, "Sorry, George. You can't win 'em all."

* * *

 **BUCK POV**

I wish I could have paused that moment. Held onto the look in her eyes. The way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to laugh at my retort to George's complaining. Instead, within seconds we were thrust back into the war, informed by Lipton that we were jumping again. Apparently, the Brits had formulated a plan that had us landing in Holland, pushing over the Rhine, and taking Berlin by Christmas. It sounded like a dream come true. Of course, it also sounded shockingly optimistic, but we were being reassured that the Krauts in Holland were mostly old men and kids. In theory, it was going to be a breeze. In reality, our easy daytime jump and "liberation" of Eindhoven had quickly devolved into an all-out battle after we were ambushed outside of Nuenen.

The battle raged and we scrambled to find cover behind the crumbling walls and buildings. I knew that we'd lost at least one lieutenant after Brewer had been shot through the neck, and watched in horror as a British tank rolled forward despite our warnings, directly into the sights of a German Tiger that had been camouflaged behind a building. The explosion seemed to happen in slow motion, and then we were running again. The order to fall back came quickly, and we ducked low in the roadside ditch as we sprinted back toward the trucks.

I don't remember which I noticed first- the thump of the bullet piercing my skin, or the searing pain as the hot metal cut its way through me. Either way, I was suddenly and sharply thrown to the ground, and acutely aware of the warmth of my own blood spreading across my pants leg. Don Malarkey knelt beside me and screamed for a medic. Roe was beside us in an instant, examining what turned out to be a wound that had entered the left side of my ass and exited the right. One bullet. Four holes. We were starting an Easy Company tradition, apparently, although I didn't find it all that funny until much later.

"Buck!"

Her voice beside me shook me out of the daze I'd fallen into when I saw my own blood on my hands. The world was still exploding around us, and these people were all huddled over me. Roxie was beside me instead of safely hidden away in a truck. I wasn't okay with that.

"Just go! Leave me here for the Germans!"

"What?" Don demanded, followed by Roe saying that they could carry me.

"I weigh more than both of you put together. Just leave me…"

"Buck, shut up! We aren't leaving you here! Don, grab some guys and find something we can put him on."

Don ran to follow her instruction, and Doc went to help anyone else that he could. I looked back up at her and told her again that she needed to go.

"Look, Don will come back for me. Just go. Go and get somewhere safe." She shook her head stubbornly, prompting me to add, "Don't make me order you, Rox."

"Forget it. I'm not leaving without you."

"Stubborn ass."

"Well, I learned from the best. Look. Don found something. Now, hold on to this and we will drag you back. Do not let go. Do you hear me, Buck Compton?"

Her eyes burned into mine, daring me to protest that we didn't need to be risking four people just to haul me out of harm's way. She had said that she wasn't leaving without me, and she was clearly prepared to carry out that promise. She was silently telling me that if I willingly gave up and doomed myself, that I'd be dooming her too. I gripped the edge of the barn door sled, allowing myself to be towed to the relative safety of a truck, and reminding myself with every painful inch that I was coaxing her away from danger as well.

The trucks rumbled to life with me lying in the back of one of them, propped awkwardly between my side and stomach as Dick Winters stopped briefly to check on me. As they finally began to roll, pulling us back from the fierce firefight, I reached down again to the aching wound. My fingers were slick with blood when I raised them to eye level, the shock of being shot beginning to seep in again as I felt a chill go through me. Then, suddenly, there was the warmth of someone next to me, and Roxie's hand was around my wrist, pulling my arm away so that I could no longer see the blood.

"Stop looking at that," she ordered quietly, stretching out across the floor of the truck next to me.

"I got shot," I told her, disbelief evident in my voice.

She nodded, running her fingers affectionately through my hair to soothe my rattled nerves.

"I know, sweetheart. But you're going to be fine. Don't pay attention to that down there. Doc will take care of that. You just focus on me."

I wanted to focus on her. I wanted to tell her how much it meant to me that she was so insistent about not leaving without me. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. But somewhere between her soft, calming touch and the morphine that Doc had given me, I managed only to mumble something unintelligible before drifting to sleep. I was vaguely aware of being pulled from the truck, and then of her kiss against my cheek. It was that kiss and her stubborn will to keep me alive that gave me solace in the hellish hospital ward. I tried not to think about the battles that continued to rage throughout Holland, or to pay attention to the reports of casualties. Instead, I replayed her words over and over in my mind.

"Don't pay attention to that… You just focus on me."


	5. Chapter 5

**** BUCK POV ****

I'd just played the game of my life. The stands were full, teaming with tens of thousands of screaming, jubilant Bruins fans, and my beautiful, bubbly cheerleader girlfriend was standing on the sidelines and flashing me her best smile. My teammates patted my shoulder pads as I made my way off the field, some making juvenile, somewhat lewd comments about the celebration that awaited me as the scantily clad socialite reached out her arms, expecting me to lift her off the ground with a customary celebratory kiss. I barely acknowledged her as I passed. When I reached the first row of the stands, a slightly less glamorous, but no less beautiful, face blinked down at me with a soft smile and surprised eyes.

"That was quite a game, Buck. I think your princess is over there expecting a celebration, so I expect I'll be studying alone this weekend."

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder at the girl I'd broken up with repeatedly over the course of a very tempestuous year. She hated Roxanna, forever treating her terribly as she tried to end our friendship and keep us apart. She looked none too thrilled to have been passed over, but I found myself unable to care any longer. I turned back to Roxie, who was looking down at me expectantly. I stepped up on the railing and caught her cheek against my palm, my lips meeting hers against a squeak of shock.

I woke up from the dream again, still in the hospital, and still relegated to lying on my stomach because of my wound. I was tired, I was frustrated, and I missed my Roxie. The only news that I'd really had of her had come from a very limited conversation I'd had with Moose Heyliger, who had come in after being mistakenly shot by a sentry. He hadn't been in very good shape, and he couldn't tell me much other than that she and the others were okay. I couldn't really press for more given his circumstances. Still, the more I dreamed of her, the more I longed to see her face.

"Well what the hell do ya know about this?" came a familiar Philly accent from the newly occupied bed beside mine.

"Wild Bill," I smirked, noticing the fresh cast on his leg. "Fancy meeting you in a place like this. What'd you do? Try jumping without a chute?"

He laughed, "Close. Went for a joyride on a borrowed motorcycle while I was checking the line. Got shot by a farmer. Threw me off and broke my leg. How you holding up? This place looks like a corner of hell." I nodded my agreement and we bantered back and forth for a few minutes about wounds and going AWOL to get back to Easy. Then he grinned at me and reached into his pocket. "Almost forgot. Your little lady wanted me to give this to ya."

I took the folded paper from his hand and opened it, noticing her familiar penmanship as a separate slip of paper fluttered out of the first and landed on my pillow.

"Dear Buck," I read to myself. "I've been holding onto this for a long time. It's been in my pocket through the entire war, up until now, but I'm sending it to you because I think you probably need it more than I do at the moment. It has always reminded me of better times, and it never fails to make me smile. Maybe it will give you something besides the hospital to focus on. You can return it when you come back to Easy. If I know you and Bill, you'll be AWOL as soon as you can walk. Love, Roxie."

Curious, I turned over the small square that had landed on the pillow in front of me and felt the moisture springing to the corners of my eyes. Staring up at me were the faces of two college students, best friends, with their arms wrapped affectionately around each other. I was in my baseball uniform. She was wearing one of my sweatshirts, which dwarfed her small frame, and she looked better in it than she could have in the most beautiful ball gown. Roxie. My Roxie.

Bill peered across the space between our beds, inspecting the photograph I was now lost in.

"You two look like you belong together."

* * *

 **** ROXANNA POV ****

"Can somebody please tell me how the hell regiment takes us from guys like Winters and Heyliger to 'Foxhole Norman'?" Joe Toye was demanding indignantly.

All of us in the truck agreed. We were finally headed out of Holland and the massive failure that had been Operation Market Garden, stuffed into trucks bound for Mourmelon, France and the promise of hot food and good showers. After Moose had been shot, we'd been placed under the charge of Lieutenant Norman Dike, a brass-polisher who had impressed someone up the chain enough that he was apparently on the rise. They thought he needed some front line experience, so they'd stuck him with us. Or rather, they'd stuck us with him. In any case, his short stay in Holland had done little to garner him the respect of anyone in Easy Company, especially when we considered that we'd be flooded with a bunch of fresh-faced replacements the moment that we stepped back into France. At least, we hoped, we'd have a while to get the new guys trained up before we had to jump again.

Despite the grumbling, we trained and drilled. We enjoyed the relative comforts of Mourmelon and not being shot at. We tried to rub some of the green off of the replacements, and we tried not to think too much about the lost boys that they were replacing. As for me, I kept as busy as I could, but in the still moments, I had to admit that I missed Buck. When Bill had been sent to the hospital, I'd jumped at the opportunity to send the note and the photograph along with him. Despite my best efforts to keep him at arm's length, the last four months had made it clear that he still had a very large piece of my heart and, according to Bill and Don, I had a much bigger piece of his heart than I realized. They would never say more than that, but I was acutely aware of it when thinking back over the playful affection and easy conversation that had slowly found its way back into our relationship.

Still, it wasn't until he suggested our leaving him behind for the Germans that I realized I'd never really be able to imagine my life without him in it. The thought so horrified me that I was fully prepared to sit there with him until the Krauts came for us both, and when we finally did make it into the back of a truck, the look of shock, pain, and fear on his face as he stared at his own blood on his fingers absolutely broke my heart. Before I could think about it, I was lying beside him, running my fingers through his hair and trying to refocus those ice blue eyes. Now, all I wanted was to see him. To see that he was okay. To hear his laugh and feel his hug. Every mention of him brought a pang to my heart that must have been obvious, because eventually, the guys stopped bringing up his name in my presence.

I was having a particularly bad day, having argued with some young, stupid replacement about my being a woman to the point that Don Malarkey had threatened to shut the kid up permanently. Don, trying to console me, threw an arm around my shoulder and walked me back toward our barracks, but my head was still hanging and my fists were still balled at my sides when I heard the unexpected voice of Bill Guarnere.

"What the hell is wrong with Rox?" I threw my arms around his neck as Don explained my anger, and he wrapped me in a tight hug. "You don't listen to those ignorant sons of bitches, you hear me? They don't know no better. If you're gonna be mad, yell at me for going AWOL."

I leaned back and looked up at him, rolling my eyes.

"As if I didn't know you'd go AWOL? What good would it do me to yell at you? How is Buck? Did you see him? Is he doing okay?"

Bill grinned and flicked his eyes behind me.

"Why don't you ask him?"

I spun, and there staring back at me were the dancing blue eyes of Buck Compton. I stood frozen for a moment, until he held his arms out to welcome me in, his warm smile washing over me like that first hot shower after weeks in battle. Within seconds, he'd lifted me off the ground in a crushing bear hug, planting kisses on my cheeks as I giggled, and we were transported back to our college days again.

At last, he said quietly, "You know, that picture kept me sane. You have no idea how much I have missed you."

"Well then, don't go off and get wounded."

"Don't worry, Rox," came a whisper close to my ear. "I'm not ever leaving you again."


	6. Chapter 6

**** ROXANNA POV ****

Fall had drifted into winter, and though D-Day had been only months earlier, it felt like we'd been away for years. Easy Company life was a bloody, brutal experience that was broken up by periods of glorified camping in the tiny hamlets of the European countryside. The battle-hardened veterans still had little confidence in Lieutenant Dike, and most of the replacements were still too wet behind the ears to know the difference. I remembered when we had all been that idealistic. How quickly things had changed.

I'd given up trying to keep Buck Compton at arm's length the moment he'd returned from the hospital. It felt too good to hug him. By Thanksgiving, the comfort and closeness of our college days had returned as though we'd never spent any time apart. Now, though, there was electricity between us; that acknowledged attraction that begged to be acted upon. The war and Buck's status as an officer loomed in my head, constant reminders that this really wasn't the time or the place for such thoughts. Lieutenant Dike himself, who apparently didn't think much of having a woman in his company, pulled me aside one day to privately warn me that if he so much as suspected anything he deemed as impropriety, he would ruin not only my career but that of any man who dared to have relations with me. His threat rang constantly in my ears.

Still, there were moments… moments when Buck's fingers brushed my hand as we walked beside each other… moments when we were all talking and joking, and I would get lost in his smile or my heart would skip a beat because he'd laugh and wrap me up in a hug… moments when I'd catch him watching me with a gaze that made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. That was why I couldn't go to Paris. I'd never be able to forgive myself if Dike sought to bring him down with me.

"What do you think, Rox?" I turned back toward Don, realizing that I'd completely lost track of the conversation taking place around me. From the knowing smile on his face, Don had realized it too and taken the opportunity to put me on the spot. "Christmas in Paris. Buck's planning to go too, since you were obviously wondering. Should be awfully romantic atmosphere."

"Shut up, Malark," Buck muttered at Don's suggestive tone. Turning back to me, he shook his head and tried to soften my embarrassment. "Don't let him scare you off from going. He will behave himself, or I'll have Skip take care of him."

"Thanks, but no thanks. You guys have fun. I think I'm just going to stay around here."

"But…" Buck started to protest, but I stood.

"I'm going to go get some chow and watch a movie."

I could hear their confusion as I walked away.

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

I was staring up at the screen without really seeing it when Dick Winters startled me with a tap on my shoulder. I couldn't figure out what was going on with Roxanna. I thought we had finally reached solid ground. Maybe even ground we could build on. Now, it seemed as though she was pushing away again and I had no idea where I had gone wrong.

I caught up with her after chow, nudging her gently as we headed toward the building that housed our makeshift theater.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered quickly, but it wasn't exactly reassuring.

As we entered the building, I pulled her into a quiet side room and looked down at her earnestly.

"Roxie, this is me you are talking to. You can't lie to me. You're lost in your head somewhere, and I want to know what is wrong. Are you upset because Don was messing with you earlier, because…?"

"No! No,of course not."

"Then what's up? Are you mad at me? Did I do something?" She shook her head quickly, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. That worried me. I tilted her chin up toward me, and the look I saw hit me like a lightning bolt. My thumb ran across her jawline and I pressed quietly, "It is me, isn't it?"

Moisture crept into the corner of her eyes as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Don't do this right now, Buck. Things are fine. You didn't do anything wrong, I promise. Just go have fun in Paris. Go sightseeing. Eat. Drink. Chase girls. You guys deserve it."

"You're really not going?"

"No, no. You guys go and have a good time. Don't look at me like that. I'm fine. Let's just go watch the movie."

She turned to move back toward the door and a million thoughts ran through my head. College. Her face on that airstrip in England. D-Day. The touch of her hand when I was shot. The feel of her skin underneath my fingertips. I think we were both incredibly aware of my position as her superior. This wasn't college. There were boundaries, especially when we were on post. Still, I guess I'd been hoping that if we went to Paris, things would relax a bit. Maybe I'd be able to tell her how I hoped for things to be when the war was over. Now, it felt like I was losing her all over again. Before I could stop myself, I caught her by the wrist and pulled her back against my chest, my hand finding her cheek.

"Come to Paris with me, Roxie. Please."

A tear finally slipped out and fell against my hand. It felt like acid burning my skin.

"I want to, Buck," she whispered. "I really do, but…"

Relief washed over me. She wanted to go. She wanted to be with me. I cut off her protest with a kiss and, for a moment, she surrendered. Her fingers ran across the back of my neck, pulling me in and sighing as I slipped my tongue past her parted lips. Lifting her onto a small table, I felt Hitler's war begin to melt into a college apartment and two starry-eyed young dreamers, learning for the first time what it really felt like to be in love.

"Wait, Buck. Wait. Stop," she suddenly breathed, pushing back against my chest and standing. "We can't do this."

"Why, Rox? We both want this, don't we? You love me. I lov…"

"No! No, Buck. Don't say it. Please. Okay? You've got to stay away from me. I just… we just… can't."

And with that, she was out of the room and out of the theater. By the time I followed, she'd disappeared from view. I wandered back into the theater and sat down, staring mindlessly at the screen as I tried to figure out what had happened. Dick tried to talk to me, and I could sense that he was concerned by my obvious distraction. Still, I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt cold all over, so I suppose it was more than a little fitting when it was suddenly announced that we were being sent into the Ardennes, which turned out to be a frozen hell all its own.

* * *

 **** LIPTON POV ****

I was stepping out of the barracks on my way toward the theater when I ran headlong into Roxanna, nearly knocking us both over. I caught her, but before I could ask what was going on, I noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Roxanna, what on Earth is going on?"

I'd always had a good relationship with the young woman, as I was a sort of older brother figure to many of the men of Easy and, as one would expect, my protective streak was even more pronounced with this adopted little sister. I had never seen her so upset, and it concerned me. Had one of the men done or said something untoward to her? It was a constant worry that came with having a woman among the men, not so much from our company as from outsiders.

She assured me that she had not been disrespected, but only related what had happened with Buck after I pressed her for an explanation. I wasn't altogether surprised. I knew their history, and anyone could see that there was still something there. Still, I was confused as to why she was so upset by it until she related her impromptu meeting with Lieutenant Dike.

"I can't let him ruin Buck's career, Lip. He's a great officer. But the more I'm around him, the harder it is to ignore those feelings. And I know Dike is looking for an excuse to get rid of me. I don't think he would hesitate to take someone else down in the process."

"I understand. Look, I will talk to Buck and explain everything. I'm sure he will understand why…"

"No, Lip. You can't tell Buck about Dike. He will be furious. You know he already hates the man. I don't want to risk him getting angry enough to do something stupid over me. Attacking the CO right now would be tantamount to suicide. Lord knows that Dike wouldn't hesitate to court martial someone who ruffled his brass-polishing feathers."

I sighed. She was probably right. Still, Buck had been in an odd place since he'd returned from being shot in Holland. He remained, of course, an outstanding combat leader, but his mortality now weighed on him in a way that it had not prior to his wound. I had no doubt that this perceived rejection would do little to right his state of mind. I was even less encouraged when it turned out that we were being shipped off to the line again. I resolved to watch them both closely, reasoning that if things got too bad, I'd explain the situation to Buck and let the chips fall their way, Lieutenant Dike be damned. I didn't want to see him get himself into trouble any more than she did, but I also knew that if Buck thought he'd lost her, he might be just as dangerous to himself. Love does funny things to people, and while I knew that they were both strong, I also knew that the mounting stresses of war could shake the foundations of even the sturdiest of soldiers. I feared for them both.

I wish I had been wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**** LIPTON POV ****

"Physically, he's fine, sir. Mentally… well, I think we all know he's been a bit different since he got shot in Holland."

"I'm not talking about that," Winters answered, staring up at me with his usual quiet calm as he tried, in vain, to warm his hands over his coffee mug. I sighed and looked down, kicking at the snow with my boot. The Captain pressed. "Something is going on, Carwood. I respect that you clearly have some reservations about breaking confidences, but I'm concerned. I'm concerned for Buck, and I know that there is something going on with him and Sharp. What I don't know is if it's going to distract one of them to the point of getting someone wounded or killed."

"Sir, Lieutenant Compton is distracted because Roxanna has pushed him away after he thought that their college friendship was on the mend." Winters nodded, indicating that he already knew this bit of information. I chewed my lower lip, wondering how much I should reveal about what Roxanna had told me. Winters really wasn't in a position to do anything about Dike at this point, but he really did need to know what was going on. "The truth is that Roxanna is avoiding him because Lieutenant Dike informed her that he would ruin her career if he felt like she was getting too close with any of the men, and she worries that he would take Buck down too. She's trying to protect him, both by avoiding him and by not telling him why. She doesn't want him getting into any trouble."

Winters and Nixon glanced at each other. There was no love lost for Dike among the officers either, so I wasn't terribly surprised to hear Nixon muttering a string of expletives under his breath. For his part, Winters looked back up to reassure me.

"Carwood, I know that maintaining your confidences is important to you, and that you are as concerned for these two as I am. Please don't be too hard on yourself for telling us. I can assure you that neither of us would allow either of them to think that you've betrayed them in any way."

"Thank you, sirs."

I was excused from the officers, and I returned to the line still concerned but somewhat relieved. At least now, with Winters and Nixon knowing the truth, Dike wouldn't be able to come to them with any false or exaggerated claims. Passing Buck's foxhole, seeing his lost stare cast in Roxanna's direction, I was glad that I'd passed on the limited information I had to the only two people who might be able to do anything about it.

* * *

 **** NIXON POV ****

The moon was high above the trees as I walked the line that night, sipping from my flask and letting the warmth slide down my throat. The line was spread disturbingly thin. Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Morale was dropping lower with each passing day, and the chronically useless commanding officer of Easy Company was sleeping soundly in a foxhole that had been dug by other men as far from the line as he could get away with. I resisted the urge to kick some snow in on top of him and kept walking. If I woke him up, I'd have to listen to his brass-polishing, brown-nosing bullshit, and I had not yet consumed enough alcohol to make that mistake.

I was making mental notes to tell Colonel Sink that our right flank appeared to be disturbingly unprotected when I came across Buck's foxhole. His eyes reflected eerily in the moonlight, but he made no acknowledgement of me as I approached, sitting stock still with his knees pulled up to his chest. It seemed to startle him when I hopped down into the hole beside him.

"Hey, Buck. How you holding up?"

The voice that answered me was distant and hollow, but he told me that he was fine and I was pleasantly surprised when he accepted a pull from the flask that I extended to him. I couldn't see through the darkness, but I had little doubt who was in the direct line of his thousand-yard stare. His eyes never moved as he handed me back my whiskey, and I knew then what Dick had intended when he told me that he thought I should "check on Buck tonight."

"Buck, listen. I need to tell you something that you may not like very much. It's about Roxanna. I know why she's avoiding you." At this, his eyes snapped to mine, all cloudiness gone. Her name had brought his attention into sharp focus. "Now, before I tell you, Dick would make you promise not to do anything stupid."

"Cut the bullshit, Nix. What do you know about my Roxie? Why is she mad at me?"

At this, I couldn't resist a grin. I was about to relieve him of his biggest fear: that he had done something to push Roxanna Sharp away. I also had to admit that the idea of him punching Dike wasn't altogether unappealing to me, although I certainly didn't want him to get in trouble.

"Dike basically let her know that he was looking for a way to get rid of her. Told her that if he even suspected that she was doing anything that he deemed inappropriate, he'd destroy her career. She figured that he wouldn't hesitate to destroy yours in the process, so she pushed you away to protect you from suspicion. She's afraid to tell you about Dike because she didn't want you to get angry and get yourself in trouble. But she told Lip, and Lip told me and Dick. That's it, Buck. She's not mad at you. She cares enough about you that she's willing to be miserable and take all of this on her own shoulders to protect you."

Buck let out a long breath as he processed this new information, casting an affectionate glance in the direction of her foxhole. The knowledge that her distance was borne out of love instead of anger seemed to bring him back from the parallel world he'd been living in since we'd gotten to these frozen woods.

"So…" he finally said, "she does still love me."

I chuckled a bit and patted his shoulder as I climbed out of his foxhole to continue my walk.

"Yeah, Buck. I'd say so. Just remember, much as I'd love to see it, no punching the beloved lieutenant, okay?"

* * *

 **** ROXANNA POV ****

"Do they have to be singing? Seriously?"

I felt like a spring that had been wound too tightly. Being in these woods was a miserable, cold, hellish waiting game. We waited for the weather to clear so that we could get supplies. We waited for the Germans to shell us. We waited to move. To dig new foxholes. To treat the wounded. To knock some of the green off of the wide-eyed replacements. We waited to go home… or to die. I felt blessed to be surrounded by friends, but not being able to talk to Buck wore deeply on my heart. Still, the look of disgust that Lieutenant Dike threw every time he happened to pass me was enough to prevent me from breaking my silence.

Right now, though, the Krauts singing Christmas carols across the field was making me appreciate silence so much more. Malarkey, bundled under a blanket next to me, chuckled at my irritation before remembering that "jolly old Saint Luz" had managed to score him some Christmas Lucky Strikes. Skip and Penk couldn't have been more excited if he'd laid a full turkey dinner out in front of them. Bastogne brought out an appreciation in all of us for the little things in life. Still, I was almost vibrating from the tension in my body. Finally, I pushed my way out of the foxhole.

"I need to move."

As the blankets were pulled back over the group, I could hear Penk's voice muttering, "Damn, I wish she'd just talk to Buck already. She's gonna lose her mind if she doesn't stop torturing herself… or make us lose ours."

I sighed and walked into the darkness. Didn't they know I'd give anything to talk to Buck? I knew that there was little Dike could do about our relationship as long as Winters didn't see it as detrimental to the company. It was his capacity to make something up that truly concerned me. Winters would be obligated to take action, and I was not about to put Buck's promising career in jeopardy if Dike drug him into it. Not only that, but he was the only platoon leader we had that was a true combat leader. We just couldn't afford to lose him. I was lost in thought when I stumbled upon a surprising sight… our officers were gathered around a fire.

"Roxie, I wouldn't stand too close to that if I were you," Lieutenant Nixon warned with a chuckle. "It seems that Harry thinks we are in a dell, but still…"

Lieutenant Welsh made a crude gesture toward him, which brought laughs all around, but I froze when I noticed that Captain Winters looking up at me. No. Not at me. Behind me. Over my shoulder. All at once, I could feel the warmth of another body at my back. Captain Winters' face relaxed into a half-smile and he gave a small nod to the new presence. I had no time to turn before a large hand slipped into mine and pulled me away from the fire and back into the darkness.

"Buck! What are you…?"

"I know about Dike, Roxanna. And so do all of the other officers."

"What? Who…?"

"It doesn't matter. We know. Dike is not going to ruin anyone's career, okay? You don't have to keep doing this. You don't have to protect me. I hate this. I hate the distance. I hate not being able to check on you and keep you warm."

I could feel the tears beginning to form and fought to keep them back in the freezing cold.

"Buck, I…"

I didn't know exactly what to say. I wanted him to be right, but I was scared and he could sense my indecision.

"Look, I'm not saying we have some torrid affair and throw it in his face. I know we can't go down that road. I'm an officer and you're not. Besides, neither of us would ever put Dick in the position of having to defend us or make a decision. What I'm saying is that I miss you, Roxie. I miss being able to talk to you about everything. I miss being able to hug you or complain to you. I miss knowing that you're next to me. I miss my best friend. We fought hard for that friendship, Rox. Don't let that bastard take it away from us again."

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

She was blinking back tears and her hands were still held firmly in mine, and probably the warmest that they had been in nearly a month. I studied her face, trying to judge her reaction. Finally, she looked up at me again and, in the moonlight, I could see her pull her lower lip between her teeth to bite back a smile. I released the breath that it felt like I'd been holding since that night at the movie theater and tugged her forward into my arms. Her welcome whisper came against my ear.

"I've missed you too, Buck."

Nix's voice floated back from the fire, "Keep it clean, lovebirds. At least for now."

Then, just as he'd finished, all hell seemed to break loose. Harry's fire drew an easily placed shell that saw him take a nasty wound to the leg, and with that, my girl was back to work. At least, I thought as I admired her calming the wounded officer, she was back to being my girl. I'd be damned if I ever let her go again. Lieutenant Norman Dike could go to Hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**** LIPTON POV ****

Patton and the tanks had finally broken through the line on the day after Christmas, allowing for the flow of men and supplies, and signaling that Easy Company and the 101st Airborne had successfully defended Bastogne. We had little time to bask in the glory, and no idea that the saga had made us famous back home. The Germans were just across the field, bombarding us with artillery from the tiny town of Foy at every available opportunity. We knew that it would be up to us to take that town, and we knew that, barring a miracle, we'd be expected to do it under the half-hearted leadership of Lieutenant Dike. It was not a comforting thought.

I had every confidence in the men of Easy Company. We'd held Bastogne under the worst of conditions, and continuously pushed the Germans back through the Bulge in the days and weeks leading up to our coming assault on Foy. As far as I was concerned, we were the best company in the entire ETO. Still, when your so-called leader is a man who cannot even decide which way is up on his own, it leaves a lot of room for concern. The best combat leader we had in the company, at least as far as I could see, was Buck, even with the whispers about how he had changed since Holland.

A shelling on New Year's Eve brought a few more casualties and sent Joe Toye to the aid station. I began to worry that morale was waning, and we just could not afford that right now. I did my best to keep the spirits up, but I was constantly having to answer questions about Dike's whereabouts, and eventually, the other officers just consulted with me on most matters because they knew that he wouldn't have the answers, even if he could be found.

On the morning of January 3rd, spirits had lifted a bit because Hoobler was wandering through the company as we dug in, telling anyone who would listen about shooting a German from his horse while on patrol. His shot finally scored him the Luger that he'd been talking about getting since before we jumped into Normandy. He was understandably proud, and his excitement, and news of one more dead German at the hands of a Toccoa man was a source of amusement for many of the men. I was helping Shifty dig his foxhole as I listened to the story, and I was happy to hear that, at least for a few minutes, the guys had something to be happy about. He wandered off to continue his publicity tour just as I was talking to Buck about how we had made out coming through the woods on the latest move.

"I mean, where the hell does he ever go?" he demanded.

His frustration was warranted. He was receiving information on casualties and talking over plans with the company First Sergeant because, once again, the CO was off taking a walk. Before I had a chance to answer, there was the pop of gunfire and we were taking cover with Malarkey and Shifty in the freshly dug foxhole. Buck suggested sniper fire, but Shifty, who knew his way around weapons better than anyone I'd ever met, said that it had not been a rifle shot. Still, we were on edge. All was silent for a moment. Then Hashey began to yell.

"Aw, Jesus, it's Hoob! He's shot!"

Nerves still taught, Buck questioned, "Sniper?"

"No! No! He shot himself!"

What the hell was Hashey talking about? Why would Hoob shoot himself? I'd just seen him! We rushed out of the foxhole toward the area where the shot had come from, met by Perconte and Roxanna, and found Donald Hoobler laying in a pile of bloody snow. Roxie went to work, trying to find the source of the blood, while I screamed for Roe to come and help.

"Where ya hit, sweetheart?"

"I didn't mean to, Rox! It just went off."

"I know, Hoob. Tell me where it hurts," she answered calmly. Hoob indicated that he'd been hit in the leg, and she began ripping through the layers of clothing to locate the wound. "You know, if you were trying to get me to take your clothes off, this was a helluva way to go about it."

He managed a pained chuckle, and looked up at Buck, who was positioned at his head.

"I swear, I'm not trying to steal your girl, but if she sees something she likes down there..."

We tried to keep him talking as Roe and Roxie worked, but he had so many layers on that it was difficult to find and stem the bleeding. The two of them were so focused on the wound and taking care of him that they did not notice when his shivering and cries of pain finally stopped. At last, Buck quietly pointed out that he was gone, and wrapped his arms around Roxanna, both trying to comfort her and to warm her up. According to Hashey, the gun was tucked away in his pocket when he got caught on a piece of barbed wire that had been hidden by the snow. The gun went off, and the bullet severed the main artery in his leg. We'd had little chance of saving him, even if we could have gotten to the wound. Yet again, I was left to brief Nixon and Winters. Dike was nowhere to be found.

Hoobler had been well-liked. It wasn't that his death didn't affect people. We were just at a point where we had learned that lingering over the dead could mean more casualties. Fear was contagious. We would have time to grieve our friends after the war was over but, for now, we had to keep going. We were standing in line for chow when Joe Toye came back from the aid station, insistent on returning to the men despite Winters telling him that it wasn't necessary. The truth was that the aid station, and being surrounded by the wounded and dying, left a man too much time to think. Bill Guarnere was insistent that the worst place a man could go was to the hospital or the aid station. It was that, he said, and not being shot, that had truly begun to change Buck Compton. I was inclined to agree with him, and happy to see Toye return.

That afternoon, we made our way back to our old positions above Foy, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up at the sight of the shell damage to the trees. This area had been shredded, clearly zeroed by the Krauts in Foy, and we were walking right back into the middle of it. I wondered how many more men we would lose, picturing the faces of young replacements in my head. All around me, men were staring up with concern. Across the field were Germans, patiently waiting for us to reoccupy the position so that they could rain down death on our heads.

"We've got to hang in," Compton reaffirmed. "We need to reinforce these covers."

I helped where I could, chopping trees and dragging branches, pointing out areas that needed more reinforcement, and instructing the newer men. I was pulling another large tree limb when I heard the bone-chilling sound of an incoming shell. Cries of "take cover" began to ring out, and we all began to scramble toward foxholes and fallen trees, trying to protect ourselves from the imminent explosion. I made it to a half-dug hole and covered myself with a branch as the world lit up around me. A moment later, my emotions thrown into a whirlwind over the absolute absurdity of our situation, I was laughing out loud at this display that was unlike any other fireworks show that I'd ever seen. It felt a bit like I was outside my body, watching a war movie that had pulled me into its realism. I had no idea that one of the most respected men in the company was undergoing a shifted reality all his own just a few dozen yards away from where I was huddled.

It wasn't until after the second barrage that my wondering of how many more men we'd lose were brought into sharp focus. If the sound of that first shell had been bone-chilling, then the sound of Buck Compton's scream sent ice water through my veins. Of all the horrible sounds that I'd heard during this war, that scream was the worst.

War or not, I wasn't prepared for the scene I came up on. Joe Toye was pushed up on his elbows, groaning as Roe tried to bandage what was left of his leg, which looked to have been blown off just below the knee. Propped up against the nearest standing tree was Bill Guarnere, alert and in obvious pain, his hands clutching one quivering and badly mangled leg. If he lived, he'd certainly lose it. If he lived. Beyond them, sitting on a fallen log, was Buck Compton.

Malarkey, who was trying to help Roe as best he could, filled me in. Toye had been hit during the first barrage. Bill and Malarkey were in their foxhole when, as the shelling subsided, they heard Toye's voice as he struggled to move himself out of the open space. Bill had taken off in search of his friend, finding Roxanna trying to apply a tourniquet to the ragged muscle where his leg had been. Bill and Rox were in the process of dragging Joe to safety when the second round started. Buck screamed for them to come to his hole, but as he started to jump out and help Bill pull Joe in, a couple of shells hit on top of them. Buck had been thrown back into the foxhole, and when he made it back out, Bill and Joe were lying unconscious in the snow. It was his scream for a medic that I had heard echoing through the woods. I looked back over at Buck's ashen face and bloodshot eyes.

"Where's Roxanna?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. I glanced back at him over my shoulder and his eyes confirmed my fear that something was very, very wrong with Buck. "Don?"

"We don't know, Lip. When Buck made it over here, she was nowhere to be found. We've been trying to help these two, so we haven't been able to look for her yet."

"She's fine," Bill insisted. "She's gotta be fine."

"Yeah, she probably just got thrown by the blast," Joe added. "Hell, she ain't big as a damn minute. She could be at the top of one of these trees for all we know."

The jeep arrived with a stretcher to carry the wounded men away, and I could tell that both were unsettled by the prospect of leaving without knowing what had happened to Roxanna. After some insistence that we would find her, they were finally loaded onto the jeep. Buck was led to the jeep as well, Roe citing a bad case of trenchfoot to the outsiders, although we knew that his hidden wounds were far more dangerous. He'd held a man as he died this morning. Two of his best friends had been badly wounded in front of him, and the woman that he loved was missing, possibly completely obliterated before he could reach her. Right this moment, Buck Compton was a broken man.

* * *

 **** LUZ POV ****

The Buck Compton we had known was lost, and sitting on the fallen log in front of me was a ghost of a man, scarcely resembling the handsome, strong, self-assured officer that we'd all known since before D-Day. His eyes were frighteningly vacant. Seeing Bill and Joe lying in the snow had done something to him. Not seeing Roxanna had done something else.

After we loaded the three of them up on the jeep, Malarkey, Lip, Roe, and I all searched the area as best we could, kicking at heavy branches and looking up in the trees. We couldn't see her. She had simply vanished, and we were left with a couple of unsettling possibilities that none of us really wanted to discuss.

One was that she'd taken the brunt of one or both shell hits directly, and had simply been blown, quite literally, to bits. It was, we thought, a remote possibility, until Muck and Penkala took a direct hit a few days later and suffered just such a fate right in front of my eyes. One minute, there they were, screaming for me to hurry up and scramble into the foxhole. Then there was a thud, a flash, and an explosion. When the smoke cleared, they were gone. A tiny little thing like Roxanna… well…

The other possibility was even more disturbing. With our line so terribly thin, Krauts wandered up frequently. Could it be possible that, in all the confusion, the Krauts had come across her before we did? None of us wanted to think what they might do if they came across a female American paratrooper left all alone in the woods, so we searched until we were ordered to find cover again.

A week went by. The constant shelling made searches difficult, not only because it put us out in the open, but because all the damage made it difficult to tell where we had already looked. Every new round gave us more fallen trees and craters to search. She had to be somewhere, and we desperately wanted to find her before Buck left the aid station. He'd never be okay again if we didn't. We kept trying.

Then the Germans came calling again, and I worried that Don might follow Buck into his mental hell. It was the day Muck and Penkala got hit that finally almost did him in. Buck and Don were close. The guilt that he couldn't find Roxanna and relieve the man's pain was weighing heavily on him, as was the picture of Bill and Joe that refused to leave any of our minds. He kept pushing forward, desperate to find Roxie and bring some measure of sense back to the world, but Muck and Penkala were his other two best friends. When they got hit, it almost broke him. Lip was so concerned that he talked Don into going back to the aid station for a couple of hours under the pretense of saying goodbye to Buck before he left. The time away seemed to help a bit, but when we were away from the others, he confessed that answering Buck's questions had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever done.

We were on a patrol, preparing for the assault on Foy, when his flat tone cut through the sound of the crunching snow.

"He asked me if we'd found her, and I had to tell him we didn't."

"Shit, Don, I'm sorry. I know you wanted to be able to find her before he left. Still, like Bill said about Bull in Holland, 'if there ain't no body, then there ain' nobody fucking dead.' We just have to keep looking. Hope that she's holed up and hidden somewhere and just hasn't been able to find her way back yet. You know that if she was knocked out for a while, she'd have probably been pretty disoriented when she woke up. Every damned thing out here looks the same."

"Yeah, I know. But then he told me he'd heard about Skip and Penk. Asked me if that's what I thought happened to her."

"No!" I answered emphatically. "She's out here… somewhere."

We were quiet for a while, each lost in our own thoughts as we walked through the area where Bill and Joe had been hit. Some of the snow was still blackened, but new rounds of shelling had erased most traces of the events of a week ago. We looked at each other, both of our minds hovering around the same sequence of events. Two German voices and the click of rounds being chambered startled us back into reality.

"Shit, where are they?"

A shot rang out and we both dove, but no bullet went whizzing past. Instead, one of the Germans was chattering excitedly, demanding to know who had fired. We located him in the trees just a few yards away and took aim. Then an American voice came from nearby. A female American voice.

"I'm the goddamned warrior princess of Easy Company, and I've been hiding right under your nose for a week. Should've looked harder."

Another shot echoed and the German fell. Still huddled behind our tree, Don and I exchanged surprised glances. Surely, that wasn't…

"Look, I don't know who is out there, but since they've been waiting all week to shoot at someone, I assume you are American. I could use a little bit of help over here. The rest of them went back to Foy early this morning, so you're safe."

"Oh, thank God," I heard Malarkey breathe as we rushed forward into the trees.

Following the sound of her voice, we found pile heavy branches around the base of a tree. Underneath the pile, propped up against the trunk, was Roxanna Sharp. When she found out that it was us, she began explaining what had happened as we pulled the debris away.

She'd been thrown away from the explosion just as we thought. She'd hit the tree and been knocked out. She had no idea how long she'd lain unconscious, but when she finally came to, she was in a shallow crater and buried underneath branches that were too heavy for her to push away, especially since her left shoulder appeared to have been dislocated. Before she could call out, she heard German voices. They'd crept up closer to the line, just as we had feared, apparently trying to ascertain positions and see if they could figure out our plans for the assault on Foy. She'd remained as still as possible, somewhat insulated from the cold by the tree branches that provided her cover, and keeping hydrated with small bits of snow. That morning, all but two of the Krauts had been ordered back to Foy in preparation for an assault, and she'd begun using her one good arm to load Buck's pistol, which was the only weapon she could reach. He'd given it to her a few days before after another German had wandered into our line, insisting that he'd feel better knowing she had it.

"I knew someone would find me. When I heard them talking about whether to take prisoners or just shoot you, I figured it was my best chance."

"Well, I'm sorry you were out here for so long, but I'm damned glad you were here when you were!" Don laughed.

"So, how is everybody?"

"Joe and Bill were evacuated. Both of them lost a leg, but they were okay when they got taken out. Mostly worried about you. Buck went with them too."

"What? Buck got hit?"

"No! No, he didn't get wounded," I answered quickly as we helped her to stand and began walking back toward the line. "But seeing Bill and Joe like that, and then you being missing… it really did a number on him. Doc told the aid station he had a bad case of trenchfoot, but really, Rox, he just lost it. He was a wreck. They evacuated him this morning. Don saw him. Said he was a little better. But we lost Muck and Penk to a direct hit this morning, and he's got in his head that that's what happened to you. That the reason we hadn't been able to find you was because there was nothing left to find."

"Oh my God," she replied quietly. "He's already gone from the aid station?"

"Yeah," Don answered, "But don't worry, okay? We will get word to him through regiment. We'll make sure he knows that you're okay. That will really help him a lot."

She seemed a bit relieved, but she was clearly in a lot of pain. I was about to offer her some morphine when we reached the edge of the line, and the men began to look up and see who was coming.

"Holy shit, it's Roxie!" Perco announced, rushing up to hug her before realizing that she was hurt. "What'd they do to you, sweetheart?"

"Sergeant Randleman," Nixon called, grinning at the sight of our girl, still on her feet after a week missing in the frozen woods, "I think Sharp here could use a little help getting over to the CP so that Doc Roe look her over."

"Absolutely, sir," he answered, rushing forward and lifting her gently. "Hi there, beautiful. It sure is good to see you. You okay?"

She grinned and pecked him on the cheek, and he chuckled at her answer.

"I'm good, Bull. Just a little shoulder issue. Sympathy pains for you, I guess. Plus I had to sit out in the cold by myself and kill a couple of Krauts so that these two knuckleheads didn't get their asses shot on patrol."

"Well, I'll be damned. Turns out you are as tough as Buck said you were," Nixon commented as he walked alongside. "Luz, why don't you use the radio in the CP and call regiment. Someone should get word to him."


	9. Chapter 9

My apologies for the extended absence, but I spent two weeks in Europe (part of which was getting in some amazing face time with our BoB guys!), and had a class that started the day I got home... Maybe a little overly ambitious on my part. Here is the next chapter. We are winding down, but hang in there with me. I've got some more stories in the works, and I still take requests! HAPPY NEW YEAR!

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

I'd been reassigned, but while I had learned that Toye and Bill would survive, I could not get past the fact that there had been nothing left to find of my Roxanna. A part of my heart held out hope that, as Bill had once remarked of Bull, no body meant that nobody was dead. Still, I had been at that aid station for at least a week. Malarkey had come to see me off. They'd found nothing. If there had been something to find, surely they would have found it. When I was physically able to return to Easy, the idea of having a daily reminder that Roxie was gone was more than I could handle. Dick arranged for me to be reassigned elsewhere, and I tried to repay his kindness by going about my business as though my insides hadn't been hollowed out.

I was preparing to leave the hospital I'd been evacuated to, and just as I was stuffing a few notes from the boys into my duffel, an orderly came up to me and nervously thrust a handwritten note in my direction. He said that it had been an important message from a George Luz, delivered to regiment earlier that morning. I loved George, but in that moment, I really hadn't been in the mood for jokes. Still, knowing that he was probably just trying to make me feel better, I took the paper and thrust it into the bag with the rest of the pages. That had been months ago. By the time I reached my new station, it had been forgotten, stuffed into my footlocker inside the duffel, unread.

I kept track of Easy's progress as best I could. Word came in about successful assaults on Foy, Noville, and Rachamps. I learned about the "successful" patrol in Hagueneau, and chuckled a bit when I read a note from Nixon about how Dick had handled the second patrol. It made me a little proud. Still, whenever I thought of them, my heart ached.

I'm not sure what finally made me go through that duffel bag, but it must have been the dream I had of her as we finally celebrated victory in Europe. A little tipsy from the party, and feeling the deep pull of sentimentality, I was alone in my quarters when I sat down on the floor in front of my footlocker and pulled out the piles of papers. Lewd commentary, hilarious jokes, and ridiculous drawings littered the floor around me when I came across the page that was scrawled in the unfamiliar hand of that orderly from months ago. Seeing George's name reminded me of the moment, and of the fact that I'd never actually read this "important" message. I glanced across the page and the room began to spin.

 _Urgent message for Lt. Compton from George Luz of Easy Company,_

 _We found Roxie. She was somewhat injured, but alive. She'd been hiding as the area crawled with Krauts. She's with us now. Doc is fixing her up, and she's going to be okay. She's only worried about you._

What? All this time? All this time, she'd been alive. She'd been alive and worried about me and I'd never answered her. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. As if to answer my question, a blank sheet of paper fluttered off of my desk and to the floor beside me. I spent the rest of the night writing that letter and mailed it the moment I had the opportunity. With any luck, it would reach her before they left Germany. When I had finished, I pulled a long-neglected photograph from a protected corner of my footlocker and looked down at the face of the woman I now had to find a way to get back to.

* * *

 ***** ROXIE POV *****

We had never heard from Buck. After George had sent the message about my return up to regiment, there had been no response. Captain Nixon double-checked and was assured that an orderly had hand-delivered the note to him. It was then that Nixon gently told me that Buck had secured a transfer because he didn't feel like he could return to Easy Company. Given the information I had, I took that to mean that he'd been so shaken by what he had witnessed, he decided that he couldn't be near me anymore. The dark-haired Captain did not correct me or attempt to patronize me with alternative explanations. If Buck knew that I was alive, only the desire to be away from me would have resulted in him staying away, at least as far as I was concerned, and Nixon knew that it would be of little use to say otherwise.

Heartbroken by his decision, but understanding what he had seen, I tried to pretend like a part of me was not missing as we continued through the assault on Foy, the occupation of Hagueneau, and the liberation of Hitler's Eagle's Nest. V-E Day saw the unearthing of more alcohol than I had ever seen in my life, and the men of Easy Company imbibed and enjoyed to their heart's content, all under the content and approving smile of Dick Winters, now a Major. I watched it all from a corner of our outpost, choosing not to partake and feeling a little less joyful than my companions. It was Don Malarkey who finally noticed and, as always, immediately came to check on me. His kindheartedness almost undid the lock on my carefully penned-up emotions.

"Roxie, what are you doing over here all by yourself? You should be out there celebrating with us."

I gave a half-hearted shrug and he smiled knowingly, slipping an arm around my shoulder.

"Sweetheart, is this about Buck?"

The tears came. I fought to blink them back and leaned into Don's chest.

"I just don't know what to think anymore. Not even a message to say that he was glad I was okay. Just nothing. I mean, I know it probably scared the hell out of him. It scared the hell out of me too, but after everything... why wouldn't he at least say something?"

"Sweetheart, I don't know. I mean, you just don't know what it did to all of us when you went missing. I know that we probably shouldn't set you apart from the rest of the guys, but we do. You're our girl, and a lot of us felt like we'd failed to protect you somehow. Nobody must have felt that way more than Buck did. Besides that, he was right there when that shell hit. One second, you were there. Then you were gone, and nobody could find you. Not to mention how bad Bill and Joe looked. When we still hadn't found any sign of you by the time he left the aid station, I think it broke him completely."

"I know, but..." I sniveled.

"Listen, maybe this is just something to do with being at war with you. The idea of you being okay and able to stay with the company. He knew what we were getting into. He knew about the assault on Foy. Maybe he just didn't think he could come back to Easy and watch you run into danger anymore. Or worse, to be the one who had to order you to. He'd never have been okay with that. Maybe once this war is over and we get home, you can reunite in a safer world and things will be okay."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Listen, don't give up on Buck, okay? I've seen you two. I've talked to him about you. Things will work out. Just hang in there."

After Don's pep talk, I did feel a little more hopeful. Still, there was an emptiness that followed me. I missed him. It seemed as though we'd just gotten back to a good place and I'd lost him again. He should've been there, celebrating V-E Day with us. When we discovered that godforsaken camp at Landsberg, it was his arms that I wished were around me to bring me comfort. When we rolled into Austria, staring out at the breathtaking beauty that now surrounded us, even Don whispered to me quietly that he wished Buck were there with us to see it.

He wasn't there when Shifty won the lottery to go home. He wasn't there when we hunted down the sorry bastard who shot Grant. He wouldn't be there as we prepared to be shipped off to the Pacific. The guys probably began to really worry when I lost Don too. While I was thrilled that Winters had assigned him to an exposition in Paris, effectively ending his days in combat, another piece of my heart was chipped away. Still, the men rallied around me to remind me how incredibly lucky I was to have all of them. I tried not to remain upset for long. After all, Paris meant that Don would be safe, and I knew that we'd all get together once the war was over.

That was the mantra I'd been reciting to myself during our weeks in Austria. It was what I'd just been reminding myself of when Captain Nixon called me to the officers' quarters. I expected him to ask me how I was holding up, as he often did. Instead, he smiled and held out a worn package that bore my name.

"So, apparently, this has been following us through Europe since V-E Day, and it finally caught up with us. I wanted to personally make sure that you got it, and since I figured you might want a little privacy, I wanted to offer you that empty bedroom over there to open it in."

With a quick wink, he ushered me into the quiet room and closed the door behind me. I knew who it must have come from if Nixon had gone to all of this trouble, and my hands shook as I ripped into the package. When I pulled open the box, the rush of Buck's scent hit me immediately and I looked down to see the old UCLA sweatshirt that I'd borrowed so many times before. Through the tears that immediately clouded my eyes, I saw the photograph that I'd sent to him when he'd been shot in Holland, where I was swallowed by that exact same sweatshirt. On top of it all was an envelope. I pulled the paper from it and lost all remaining composure when I saw Buck's familiar scrawl.

 _Roxie baby,_

 _Please, please, please forgive me for taking so long to respond to George's message. I never even read it until today. I was leaving the hospital on the day I got it, and really not in the mood for any of George's jokes, so I stuffed it in my duffel and forgot about it._

 _You have to believe that if I'd known that you had been found, I would have done everything I could to come back to you. I felt like such a failure when you went missing. Like I'd promised to protect you and then you were taken from me. I've been walking around all of this time with a big empty hole inside myself. Finding out that you are alive and okay... I don't even know what to say right now. Forgive me. I've had some champagne tonight. V-E Day, you know._

 _Listen, this picture got me through some of my worst times during this war, and now I'm sending it back to hold my place until I see you. When this war is over, and we get back home, you'd better believe that I'm coming to find you, Roxanna. The sweatshirt, which should look familiar, is for you too. My mom sent it to me when I was in the hospital, and it smelled so much like you that I have slept with it every night since. It's starting to lose that smell, so now that I know you are okay, I'm sending it to you so that when I see you again and get it back, it will smell like you again._

 _I'm rambling, I know, but it feels like I just came back to life again. Forgive me for taking so long. Hang in there until we meet again. You're an amazing woman, Roxanna Sharp. I'm going to get more champagne to celebrate you._

 _Love,_

 _Buck_

I'd sat down on the bed without realizing I'd done it, and when I finished the letter, I pulled the sweatshirt over my head immediately, holding the collar up to my face so that I could breathe him in. I don't know how long I lay there and sobbed, half out of missing him so terribly, and half out of the happiness that there was finally an explanation for Buck's extended silence. At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up I slowly became aware of someone brushing my hair back from my face.

I had barely begun to open my eyes when a voice said, "You know, that shirt always did look better on you."


	10. Chapter 10

**ALRIGHT MY AMAZING READERS... LAST CHAPTER FOR THIS STORY. DON'T WORRY! THERE ARE MORE COMING, AND I'M STILL OPEN TO REQUESTS AND IDEAS! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS ONE!**

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

I'd been travelling for days by the time I reached Zell am See, finally receiving permission to reunite with Easy Company. The jeep dropped me off in front of a lakefront hotel, but I had only a second to take in the view before Nixon, who had been outside for a smoke, appeared beside me.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," he grinned, shaking my hand. "Let's get you in to see the Major. He'll be happy to see you. Then you can settle in. I already found a room for you."

Dick Winters, oak leaves and all, smiled warmly when I followed Nixon into the building, standing to greet me and shake my hand. Welsh, Speirs, and Carwood Lipton stood by to welcome me back as well, and I couldn't help but think that Easy had finally found the right combination of officers. It was good to be home. At last, Nixon led me to a room where I could drop my bag and pointed me in the direction of the showers, shooting me a sly grin.

"Of course, you'll want to be all freshened up when you see a certain someone."

I took my time showering, picturing her face and trying to decide how I was going to react when I first saw her. I'd spent months thinking she was dead, and then more months knowing that she was alive but just beyond my reach. I was tempted to ask Nixon if he could summon her to the officers' quarters, for fear that if I sought her out among the men, one of two things would happen. Either I'd get swept up in the tide of my friends welcoming me back, and therefore ruin that first moment, or I'd simply walk up and sweep her off her feet for all the world to see, which might prove to be a bit embarrassing for her if I were to get carried away.

As it so happened, though, I never had the chance. As I left the shower and walked back toward my room, I saw Nixon shutting the door behind him. Before I could say anything, he passed me with a half-smile and a brief nod. He was up to something, but I didn't really know what it was until opened the door and saw her laying across the bed, wrapped up in a familiar old college sweatshirt. I sat down next to her, but I'm not sure how long I watched her sleep before I finally worked up the nerve to run my fingers across her tear-stained cheek. I brushed a strand of hair away from her face and her eyes fluttered open. Then, despite all my worrying in the shower, without my even trying, the words I'd been looking for found me.

"You know, that shirt always did look better on you."

* * *

 **** ROXANNA POV ****

It took me a moment to focus on what I was seeing, and I wasn't sure he was real at first. He sat next to me on the bed, still running his fingers across my cheek and wearing the same soft smile he'd had on the night he first kissed me. It felt a bit like a dream. Then I got a better look at him, my eyes drinking in the details, trying to determine if I was still asleep. He wore only trousers, and he had clearly just come from taking a shower. I could smell the faint trace of the soap on his skin, and his hair was still damp. I sat up quickly, but his eyes caught me and refused to allow me to move any further.

"Buck? What are you…? How are you…?"

My brain and my mouth refused to work together. I managed to lift my hand to his bare bicep, clutching it to be sure that he was real, flesh and blood, and not some cruel figment of my imagination. He felt real enough, and the rumbling chuckle that emitted from his chest at my stuttering certainly sounded real enough.

"Hi Roxanna."

Relief washed over me. Two little words. I threw my arms around his neck and he reacted immediately, wrapping me up and pulling me into him. He was here. He was real. He was… half-naked. The rippling of his broad shoulders under my fingers as he hugged me made me suddenly, and intensely, aware of this detail. I sat back a bit to meet those eyes, now attuned to the goosebumps that had risen on his skin along the path my fingertips had taken.

"Buck, I…"

I don't know what I intended to say, and it didn't much matter anyway because I'd scarcely started to speak when his mouth met mine. It was a long, languid kiss that carried me back to college on a cloud. I felt my arms raise above my head, and the cool rush of air as the sweatshirt and my white t-shirt were stripped away. Then I was warm again, almost on fire, as Buck's mouth moved along my jaw, down my neck, and across the skin he had just bared, the pressure of his body returning my back to the surface of the bed as he settled across me.

His lips grazed my earlobe as he returned his attention to my neck, whispering, "I've missed you so much, Roxie."

The friction of our lower bodies, at first almost imperceptible, began to build as kisses became deeper and movements more deliberate. He found a sensitive spot on my collarbone and my teeth grazed his shoulder as I fought the urge to cry out from the pleasure. My mind clouded over. I was aware of belts and buckles being undone. None of it was frantic. It was a slow, deliberate exploration of skin, so that by the time we were both naked, neither of us were exactly sure when it had happened.

Buck hovered over me now, propped up on one arm as his other hand ran possessively over my body. His eyes, blue as glacial ice, glowed as they surveyed my bare skin before finally reaching my eyes. He swallowed hard, at first seeming indecisive about something, and then took a deep breath as though he'd made up his mind.

"I've gotta tell you something, Rox," he said quietly, his eyes now burning a hole in the pillow beside my head. "Something about what really happened in college."

"Buck," I protested, "please, don't do this now. Let's not ruin…"

"No," he insisted. "It has to be now. Before this… before we… look, it's just something I've needed you to know for a long time, and I won't feel right about this if I don't tell you first."

Seeing that he was determined, I sighed and braced myself for the coming flood of old, painful memories to wash away my happy reunion.

"Okay," I agreed finally. "Go ahead."

All at once, the confidant, sure-handed Buck Compton looked like a schoolboy at confession after a particularly naughty week. His cheeks tinged a bit pink. His eyes were downcast. His thumb brushed nervously across my cheek, seeming almost afraid that I would try to move, maybe to get away. He seemed to have trouble finding the words to start, but I had no idea where this was going, so I had no choice but to wait until he did.

"It sounds so stupid to me now," he finally admitted as a beginning. "The reasons that I let things get so out of hand and made such a stupid mistake sound so immature and full of that machismo and ego that I used to hate in some of the guys I played ball with. As it turns out, I guess I wasn't all that different from them."

"That's not true, Buck," I protested immediately. "You were a good guy then. You were just young. A different person. We all were different people a few years ago."

He smiled at my defense of his college character, finally looking me in the eye again as he continued.

"The night I kissed you, Rox, I walked back to my place on top of the world. There was nothing I said to you that night that I didn't mean from the bottom of my heart. My stunning stroke of idiocy came the next day, listening to all those sex-starved, testosterone-fueled teammates of mine talking about the life I could have now that I was single. All the normal stuff. Too young to be tied down to one girl. The whole campus was open to me, especially as a well-known athlete. All the things the male ego likes to hear."

"Of course," I muttered, rolling my eyes and wondering why he felt the need to confess this to me, as it was something I'd pretty well known since I'd walked in on him and the blonde devil that morning. That had actually been far less of a surprise than the idea that he'd have been interested in me in the first place. "I had that much figured out."

Sensing my irritation, he responded with a small chuckle and turned my cheek back to face him.

"I figured that you'd figure that. That's not the end of the story though, and it's time you finally heard the rest."

"Enlighten me," was my mildly sarcastic response which, of course, drew a brilliant smile from him because this had often been our communication style in college when we were annoyed with each other but too intrigued with the conversation or the company to walk away.

"Well," he replied dramatically, shifting so that he could cuddle in close to me, "if you must know, I had great plans for us, Miss Roxanna Sharp. I had it all figured out. See, you know I was a bit of a playboy in college. Never really one for a serious, full-time kind of relationship."

He looked to me, waiting for my acknowledgement, and I agreed that I remembered clearly how he had enjoyed himself in college.

"Right. So, when I left your apartment that night, I knew without a doubt that I could never treat a relationship with you as casually as I had with other girls in the past. So, when the guys started talking the next day, I got in my mind that I wasn't ready for a relationship that serious. I figured that I could have fun for a little while longer. You and me, we would still be friends, and then I could keep dating and not worry about breaking anybody's heart."

"But why didn't you just come talk to me? I didn't deserve to find you like that."

The question bubbled up before I could restrain myself, and I could tell it struck him like an arrow to the heart. He paused for a second before answering me, but despite the stricken tone in his voice, his eyes did not leave mine.

"I have no excuse, Rox. I was selfish. See," he started to explain, then stopped to choose his words and steady his shaking voice. "When I left your apartment that night, I knew in my heart that you were the one I wanted to be with. You wouldn't just be a serious relationship. You would be the serious relationship. The last relationship that I would have. It scared me, because I worried that I hadn't really outgrown playing the field yet and I knew that I couldn't do that with you. So, I rationalized that we could stay friends while I sowed the rest of my wild oats. Then, you'd be there waiting for me, just like you always had been. I'd sweep you off your feet and marry you, and we'd live happily ever after… and it didn't really occur to me how selfish that sounded until it was too late to apologize. I fell in love with this amazing woman, and then I let her get away because I was too busy 'having fun' with girls who didn't even come close."

For a second, I wasn't sure exactly how to respond. I stared at the ceiling, trying to process all that I'd just heard. Then, a hot tear hit my shoulder and I looked up to see Buck's eyes downcast again, another tear sliding down his cheek. That's when everything he'd said came together in my mind. In some confused, misguided, admittedly selfish way, Buck had thought he was protecting me from getting hurt. He thought that he was preserving our relationship for a time when he was ready and, in a way, I guess he had been. After all, the two people laying in a bed in the middle of Austria were, in many ways, a far cry from the idealistic young friends who'd shared a few tender moments in that college apartment. I was in the middle of this revelation when he spoke again, his voice now a broken whisper that would have let me know he was crying even if I hadn't seen it.

"I'm so sorry, Rox. I didn't want to bring back hurtful memories for you. I just…" his voice trailed off and he reached for the sweatshirt, averting his eyes as he handed it back to me. "Here. Um, I should probably let you get dressed. I'm sorry about getting so carried away earlier. It just felt so good to hug you, and…"

He was edging away from me and off the bed as he spoke, clearly convinced that his soul-cleansing confession had shredded the strands of hope that had been pulling us back together. The reality hit me like a Kraut shell. None of it mattered anymore. Buck had said that I was the woman he'd wanted to spend his life with. He loved me, and what's more, I loved him back. There had really never been anybody else who came close for me either. So what were we dwelling on? The reality of this war had shot holes through our naïve world view just as cleanly as the bullets had ripped through our parachutes on D-Day. If we wanted to be together, there was no perfect moment. No fairytale. No. If we wanted to be together, we'd just have to make it happen, and then keep fighting for it every day, for better or worse.

I sat up and put one hand on Buck's bicep, arresting his movement. He still stared down at the bed, a child waiting for a scolding. Pulling him toward me and leaning into him at the same time, I caught his lips with mine and I could taste the salty tears. Caught off guard, he was still for a moment, unsure how to react, and then, slowly, his arms wrapped around me waist and he began to kiss me back. This time, there was no interruption or last-minute confession. His mouth didn't leave mine as he laid us back across the bed. Only a gasp at my fingernails against his shoulder blades as he joined our bodies broke the kiss, and all at once, we were swept up in the tide of that first real love-making experience.

It was too much and not enough all at once, and despite my grudge against fairytales, it really did feel like we'd been made for each other. Every touch and kiss and movement seemed to be exactly what the other needed, and I found myself unable to keep from crying out at the pleasure any longer. If anyone were listening, they would just have to cope.

* * *

 **** BUCK POV ****

Right then, I'd have given anything to bottle that moment and keep it in my pocket. We were still in a very uncertain world. The reality of the Pacific, of more danger and more death, loomed large. But there, in that room, in that moment, everything was perfect.

That tiny, college playboy voice in the back of my mind reminded me that it had done me a favor by ensuring that I was well-practiced and prepared so as not to embarrass myself in this moment. It was a humorous, if somewhat inappropriate thought, but I was a bit relieved that the excitement and long buildup had not resulted in an unfortunate moment for me. Still, being with Roxanna was unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life. Her body curled into mine as we lay there in the afterglow, still enjoying soft touches and kisses, and I felt like I'd come home.

At last, reluctantly, we left my room and went out to enjoy a game of baseball in the beautiful Austrian sunshine. There, surrounded by our closest friends, is where Major Winters told us that the war was over. There, surrounded by our closest friends, is where I finally asked my beautiful Roxanna to spend the rest of her life with me. There, in spite of all that we'd already been through, is where we finally started to live.


End file.
